


I'm Your Man

by JillianK



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Heavy Angst, Light BDSM, M/M, Poor Draco, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1922895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JillianK/pseuds/JillianK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who is to say that love should be soft and gentle? After the war Draco is lost. Harry finds him. Light BDSM and everything that entails.  Inspired by the movie "Secretary".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1

It was my mother that had insisted on having albino peacocks adorn the grounds of Malfoy manor. She had harbored a love for the pale birds which bordered on the absurd especially when she took to naming them. There was Adonia the largest breeding female and her mate Palladio. They had produced Zephis, Zeus and Isidor who mated with Astraea and Fauna. By the time my mother was finished we could have filled Valhalla twice over.

It was fitting that I scattered her ashes on the grounds her birds had once wandered.

My father, or rather the shell that was left, would probably breathe his last in one of the darkest cells in Azkaban. I was told that I could claim his body once he was gone which would likely be some weeks from now. I did not want to know. I warded my house against owls and went to sleep.

Sometimes I awoke when it was dark. Sometimes I could see the light filter through the moth holes in the old brocade drapes. I swallowed another dose and returned to my tangled bed-coverings to find peace and oblivion.

The world has a way of mucking up all my plans though no matter how humble they may be. I awoke one day to find myself in the closed ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. Apparently my resolution to simply sleep my life away was classified as a suicide attempt.

"What are you looking for Draco?" she asked me for the second time. I looked at her quick quotes quill paused mid-air. It seemed that the quivering feather was holding its breath.

I stuck out my tongue at the psychiatric healer and her quill.

She must have been used to it for there was no reaction. Her quill moved furiously. More likely it was writing something like:

_Patient unresponsive except for gross and childish behavior. Highly indicative of Death Eater tendencies. Maybe we should have let him sleep tendencies off._

If she had asked again I would have crossed my eyes.

I was sent back to my lovely room with the sticking charm on the furniture. I climbed back to bed and waited for the mediwitch to bring my prescribed potions. I hoped that they would not serve pumpkin juice with lunch again.

Life became very simple then. It had beautiful order.

Porridge and tea at 8:00. Fruit and sandwiches at 12:00

Therapy at 3:00. Dinner at five and back to my room by 9:00.

The mediwitches and wizards were clinical but polite. They must have bitten back their disgust at the name 'Malfoy'.

And then goodbye.

"Remember that we are here if you need to talk some more."

I nodded but did not really want to leave. It had been two years.

I found myself walking out of St. Mungo's into the foggy London morning. My long unused wand felt heavy in my back pocket. I had a shrunk suitcase which contained three robes, six books, a quill, underwear, a jumper and a certificate declaring that I was mentally competent. I still wanted to sleep.

There was nothing else to do but go to the Leaky Cauldron and floo home.

Instead of sleeping I walked. I explored every last centimeter of the manor's grounds. I saw that ponds had dried out and that pests had eaten away much of the foliage. A white stone nymph had lost an arm. Without mother to supervise the elves had not taken such good care of the grounds.

The peacocks were missing. I went to bed.

A few hours or a few days later a brown barn owl landed on my pillow.  It was a ministry owl.

_Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy._

_It has been brought to our attention your recent release from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. We congratulate you on your progress. We understand that the recent war has affected many amongst us and thus we have created a program to support emotionally traumatized wizards rebuild their lives. With this goal in mind we ask you to report a week from today to our office located in the 5th Level of the Ministry of Magic so that we can best assist you with your reintegration to wizarding society.Regards.Clementine Bode_

_Committee for the Assistance of Traumatized War Participants._

_Damn._

I had to use the visitor's entrance and waited for an hour to see anybody. Apparently the disturbed benefit by learning patience. The fact that the office was located in the same floor as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was significant. Or maybe not.

I was just about to go home when an assistant witch guided me to an office in the back. There was a tall brunette sitting behind a desk. She got up, shook my hand and looked at me appraisingly. I bet she had read the magical maladies manual.

_When dealing with mental patients make sure to always keep eye contact_. I sat down on one of the hard ministry-issued chairs. Ms. Bode waved a cushioning charm over it.

"Well Mr. Malfoy let me reiterate my pleasure at your progress. We understand that it has been very difficult for you."

"I was just tired."

"I am sure you were. But now that you are better it is our intention to assist you further. May I ask what are your future plans?"

I blinked at her. I had ordered thicker bedroom curtains and three extra sets of pajamas.

"I don't know."

"We are very concerned. We feel that it is best for you to adopt a routine that will keep you busy and involved. Since your finances have been mostly depleted it would be ideal for you to seek some gainful employment. We have already made inquiries and have found a good position for you."

"What? I don't want to work."

"It is best. It will distract you and allow you to anchor yourself in society once more. Your supervisor is familiar with your case and he is willing to do everything he can to help you. You are to report to his office tomorrow at eight in the morning. His particulars will be sent later today by owl. We wish you all the best."

"How is this supposed to help me?"

"It will all work out in the end Mr. Malfoy. You'll see."

I left the ministry in a haze. I have never worked a day in my life. After receiving the promised owl I found that I could not sleep.

_Dear Mr. Draco_

_As per our agreement here is the information you require. You are to report tomorrow at eight in the morning at the office of Mr. Harry Potter which can be accessed through the storm grate nearest the Royal Artillery Memorial in Hyde Park. Please be prompt._

Oh Merlin.

I dressed with care in a form fitting grey robe and a deep aubergine cloak with a hood. It was raining but I did not want to bother with water repelling charms. At ten minutes before eight I apparated to Hyde Park. It only took me a minute to locate the storm grate and seconds later I found myself in Harry Potter's fireplace.

XxXxXxXxXx

I must have reached the waiting room for there were a couple of wizards drinking tea and sitting in the chairs adjacent to the wall. One of those modern, clear glass teapots floated between them.

I sat on one of the chairs and a tea cup appeared in front of me. It wriggled invitingly. I shook my head and it floated away rather gloomily.

I waited for ten minutes and then ten more. The two wizards were called in. Something twisted inside of me when I heard his voice.

It was another twenty minutes before the wizards walked out. They were smiling and patting each other on the back.

"Malfoy" came from the open door.

I stood up bonelessly and adjusted my robes.

XxXxXxXx

His office was dark. It was wood panneled with a large window that filtered in very little natural light even though the curtains were drawn. There were sconces in the walls placed a meter or so from each other. standing brass lamps adorned every corner.

But what dominated the office besides the imposing ebony wood desk that he sat behind was a very tall plant with curled vines that undulated slowly in a bathtub-sized planter.

"Is that a ...?" I ventured.

"Venomous Tentacula, A gift from Neville."

"But aren't they dangerous?"

"This one is tamed as long as I feed it on a regular basis. You still need to be careful with the secretions though."

I nodded and looked down to the carpet. Beige, plushy and expensive.

"Come closer" he ordered. I approached slowly and stood directly before his desk.

"Look at me."

I met his eyes. They were green and analytical as they swept through my body. I felt myself turn red. I knew I was skinny and worn down. I no longer resembled a Malfoy.

It seemed like decades before he asked me to sit down. I sank into a leather chair gratefully.

"I have to admit that it is strange to see you Draco after all this time."

My given name on his lips felt wrong... and a little bit right.

"I was told to come here."  I said dumbly.

"Well yes. Ms. Bode was quite challenged in finding you a placement. It seems that no one wanted to take on the son of Voldemort's right hand man."

There was nothing I could say to that so I didn't say anything.  He went on.

"Whatever. I do need someone to help me and you are here. I guess I have to show you the ropes."

He stood up. Potter had grown taller than me. He now wore his hair combed back and sleek. His glasses were modern and rimless which suited him much better. The green of his eyes was offset by his reddish lips. A tailored muggle suit completed the look. In my father's old robes I was at a disavantage.

He led me out into the corridor. More of those sconces lined our way. We stopped before a door adjacent the waiting room I've been in before. He opened the door with a careless wave of his hand.

Potter motioned me to come in. I did so and found myself in a small and cramped room. There was a desk in the middle of shelves replete with books and reams of scrolls. In top of the desk there was a contraption that I had never seen before.

"What is that?"

"A computer. You will become very familiar with it soon enough."

I approached the strange machine warily. Potter raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"It has letters." I affirmed stupidly.

"That is called a keyboard. When you press it the corresponding letter or number will show up in the screen there."

I moved a tentative finger and pressed a D. A small d and a blinking line appeared in the white screen.

"Oh. I am not familiar with this spell."

"Your parents really kept you ignorant didn't they Draco?"

A look passed between us.

"Wow Draco. I am surprised. Two direct attacks from me and not a peep from you..." he walked towards me with a questing look in his eyes. I held my breath. "One would say that you had changed, matured or just given up."

"NO!" My raised voice startled us both. He caught himself and smiled strangely.

"You're...you're ...closed tight Walled in."

"I know." I answered.

"Do you ever loosen up?"

"I don't know."

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_'My flowers had just about given up in despair,_

_so with the exception of a few plotted plants from the florist,_

_we're flowerless for the first spring in years.'_

Just as I had been taught I laid my hands flat on both sides of the board with the lettered keys to indicate that I had completed the sentence. Harry Potter was looking from his typing exercise book and onto the screen in front of me. His eyes scanned my efforts for any little mistake. He frowned and I knew I was in trouble.

"What on earth is a "plotted plant"?"

"A plant that plots" I said glibly but I still cringed when I felt the stinging hex on my arm. It had been the fifth time that day.

If I were to roll up my robe sleeves the skin of my bare arms would be red and inflamed. His wand was merciless in its precision.

"Type it again Draco and this time without any errors." He said impatiently and made the glass screen before me lose all its letters.

The harsh tone in his voice made my stomach turn. An angry Harry Potter meant an unpredictable taskmaster.

My fingers moved through the letters slowly. Even thought I had been practicing for the better part of a week I had yet to be trusted with the job I was hired for.

_‘My flowers had just about given up in despair,_

_so with the exceoption_ ’

A slashing hex cut the back of my hand and a trickle of red blood oozed out. Potter roughly grabbed my hands and placed them back on the keys.

"Do it again...and get it right. You're wasting my time.”

I said nothing and moved through the sentence once more. My hands were shaking a little making the small letters even more difficult to find. I wasn't supposed to look at them.

I made another mistake and this time he slammed the book on my desk. I ventured a glance and met his cool green gaze.

"I'm sorry ... sir. I've only written in scrolls and this muggle way is very difficult for me."

He didn't say anything for a while. I felt myself shrinking under his gaze. My father would roll in his grave if he saw me doing so. That is if his body had not been cast to the North Sea when he died in Azkaban. I'd been locked in the closed ward by then.

I was startled when he spoke calmly.

"This was Hermione's idea and she has a good basis for it. All knowledge in this society is concealed in some scroll or text that will eat your hand if you don't use the right incantation to open it. We had to decipher a bloody book of fairy tales to get to the truth about Voldemort. And now we have all this information...narratives, interviews, the strategic plans from the Death Eaters, pensieve memories. Everything we have assembled to get the record straight once and for all so that the next threat to the wizarding world can be handled differently."

"So that next time we won't have to rely on a seventeen-year-old boy to save us." I ventured.

He narrowed his eyes but nodded.

"And putting it here..." I pointed to the screen. "...is the best way?"

"This will make it accessible especially to the muggleborns who do not grow up hearing about Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort..."

"And Harry Potter" I interrupted and rubbed at the slash mark on my right hand.

"Yes."

"I see. But it is still very hard." I said quietly and waited for his answer.

In all my years watching Harry Potter I had become quite good at deciphering what he felt. Therefore the look on his face told me that he was going for my jugular. But even then I wasn't prepared for his questions.

"What do you do when you get home?" he asked coldly.

"I d..don't know...I guess-I guess I just go to sleep." I stammered.

He blinked. "Why do you take those potions Draco?"

My heart sank. "I don't know"

He moved towards me slowly like a predator.

"Is it that sometimes the pain inside comes to the surface...the guilt for what you did just gets too difficult for you to deal with? Are you trying to escape?"

Oh Merlin. "I don't know."

"Maybe you want to lose yourself. Dream your identity away. Forget that you chose to follow him. Forget that you almost killed Katie Bell and that you let a werewolf disfigure Bill Weasley."

"Please stop." My breath was trapped in my lungs. He advanced even more so that he stood in front of me. I could not raise my eyes to meet his.

"You were so proud to have been chosen. You wanted to murder an old man who had shown you nothing but fairness."

"No.. don't." I wanted to fall asleep. Forever.

"And then you got away with it Draco. You didn't go to Azkaban and got to go back to your manor."

"My parents.. they..."

"They got what they deserved but you didn't. St. Mungo's is not prison."

"I know."

He leaned down to my level. "So you see the problem. There is no escape for you. You don't deserve it. Have I made that perfectly clear?"

I lowered my gaze. "I don't deserve it."

"Never again."

"Okay." I agreed.

"Now you know what I want you to do? I want you to stay in this room the entire night. I want you to remain in that chair and stare at that keyboard until you memorize where each letter is. Incarcerous!"

Thin white ropes sprang from the chair I was sitting in. They surrounded my body until I was secured to my seat and unable to move. I wiggled a little but they would not give. I sat back against the chair and closed my eyes.

He left without sparing me another glance. Some moments later the lights were extinguished and the floo connection was turned off.

Many hours later, when I could no longer feel my limbs, I wondered about the emotions coursing through my imprisoned body. I found something comforting in those ropes holding me trapped.

Something that was entirely missing when I went home.

Peace.

TBC.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem...some spanking in this one.

Chapter 3

Sometime during that agonizing and exquisite night I found a few slivers of tranquility that had eluded me even with the strongest of sleeping draughts. I pulled against the unforgiving ropes relishing the feelings that they engendered in me.

I was suffering because he wanted me to and because I deserved it. The taut bindings were cutting into my circulation so that my feet and hands were numb. My neck was sore because there was no support in the hardback chair. I was hungry, thirsty and growing uncomfortably warm. Little beads of sweat coated my hairline making me long for a cooling charm or an open window.

But as he had explained I did not merit either. I should have been locked away in Azkaban where all my sins would be expunged as I fed the dementors my soul bit by bit. Eventually all the guilt, all the memories would be gone and I would be saved. I would be empty.

I didn't have the salvation of Azkaban. I had two years in a closed ward and now this perfect misery that might redeem me if I let it.

Maybe I wouldn't hate myself anymore. I could look at myself and not see the green light of the Avada Kedavra when it hit Dumbledore's body. I would not have to live with the suffocating regrets that shrouded every little piece of me.

I made a decision that night. Harry Potter would be my savior and I surrendered to his will with everything that remained in me.

XxXxXx

The unruly rays of the sun found me still imprisoned in my chair and desperate for a loo. I knew that he was an early riser so I tried to calm myself. He would be here soon to take care of me.

I held on to that belief long after the morning gave way to early afternoon. He had not returned and then I remembered that it was the weekend and that he was not due at the office. I panicked then and pulled at my bonds to no avail. My struggles turned to frightened sobs. I felt abandoned.

Then the door opened and he walked inside. My heart started to pound and I breathed in relief.

He did not say a word but waved his wand so that I was free. I remained in the chair waiting for permission to rise. He sighed loudly and spoke without looking at me.

"Get up Draco. Go home." He ordered and walked to his own office.

I rose with difficulty and followed him. My muscles ached from disuse but that did not keep me. He sat down behind his desk. I noticed that he had replaced his customary suit with light grey t-shirt and jeans. Behind him the Tentacula shuddered and stilled.

I did what seemed natural and knelt at his side. My hands rested on my thighs and my back curved in what I hoped was the right manner. I kept my head down and my lips closed.

He pushed his chair back and away from me. "You need to leave Draco."

"And return on Monday?" I asked tentatively.

"No not on Monday… not ever. I'll talk to Madam Bode. She can find you another position somewhere."

I felt the floor slide under my knees.

"No please don't." I whispered.

He still would not look at me. "It's for the best. Last night can never happen again. You do not deserve that kind of treatment. Nobody does."

"I do because of what I've done. You said it yourself. I deserve to be punished."

"Not by me."

"Then by who? I tried to do it myself but they put me in a mental hospital. They wouldn't let me die." My voice had a desperate tinge to it.

"Just go."

"No. You liked it too. I could feel it."

He rose from his chair and roughly pulled me up by my left arm just to throw me across this desk. I felt his body press against mine possessively. I relaxed under his weight and closed my eyes to focus on the sensation. I could feel something growing in Harry… an intimate tendril creeping from one of his darker areas.

He pushed me away and I slid to the floor. I could see the conflicting emotions rise of him like vapor. Anger, self-recrimination and a need that mirrored my own but I dared not go to him.

"Go…but come back on Monday."

Knowing that it was the best I could hope for I left his office.

XxXxXxXxXx

On Monday everything started anew. There were more scrolls to decipher and rewrite. He had handed me Granger's memoirs all done in her neat handwriting but with a dozen footnotes in each page. As I worked my way through them I kept coming across references the Beedle text. I tried to remember the significance of that name but my memory wasn't as good after St. Mungo's. My distraction led to some pretty spectacular mistakes that angered Potter until he burst into a mass of righteous anger and called me to his office.

I walked with shaky knees that betrayed my fear and excitement.

He was standing with his back to me to the right of his desk. One of Hermione's scrolls laid on the wooden surface and next to it was a printed version of my own efforts. I think I shivered in anticipation.

"I want you to bend over the desk so that you are looking at the document you turned in." he ordered dispassionately.

I did as bid.

"Get your face very close and read it aloud. Put your elbows on the desk"

I did so and immediately noticed that I had skipped a chapter where Granger expounded on the significance of the Hallows symbol and the connection between magic and magical conduits. Her writing had gotten very cramped at that point so I must have overlooked it. Rather bad form for record keeping.

I was formulating an apology when he placed his hands on my waist and pulled my robes up and my pants down. I froze as I felt him tugging at the waistband of my shorts which he pushed to my knees. My breathing stopped.

I heard the hiss of his wand being pulled back before it struck the sensitive skin of my bottom. I yelped in pain only to be felled by another blow and another and another. He worked fast and hard and I was panting midway. I broke a sweat as he crisscrossed the blows so that each one became more painful than the past. My fingers gripped at the slick surface as I tried to keep myself from sliding across the desk with the force of each strike. He hit me harder.

Oh Merlin, Oh Mother, Oh Yes. Yes.

Tears were running down my face and wetting Granger's scrolls and my printouts. I wiped my tears with my sleeves but struggled to remain silent. He stopped at twenty-five. I shuddered as my body slid to the carpet. I caught myself and crawled to his side slowly. He watched horrified as I thanked him by pressing my lips to his shoes.

"Thank you sir." I said softly. I could smell his arousal as well as my own. 

TBC.

Author's note: Thank you for your comments.


	4. Chapter 4

The air had a chill to it as I walked through the park but it did not bother me at all. Under my thin cloak I was tired and achy but there was no denying the smile on my face. The discomfort of my body had been a balm to my troubled soul.

I was deliriously happy with what had happened in that office. When his wand touched my skin I wanted to sing with joy through my tears.

I had been found wanting. I've been judged and earned my stripes with dignity. At last the miserable deatheater had found something to hold on to- someone who finally gave a damn.

After a few floo connections later I made it to my dilapidated manor, My old clothes fell to the wayside as I walked to my room and laid in my bed relishing the sting of my welts. The still raised skin was hot and I ghosted my fingers against it. I wished desperately that the marks would not fade so that I would bear them with humble pride.

" Harry." I whispered and my eyes closed as my hand traveled to my nether regions. I was hot and hungry for his touch but I had not earned it yet.

There needed to be more pain… more misery. I needed to suffer for my sins and prove myself worthy of the man I longed for.

For now my imagination would suffice. Tomorrow I would see him and it would all begin again.

My mistakes did not lessen in frequency and I found myself flat against his desk many days under his harsh ministrations. He tied me to my chair and once under his desk but the ropes had a cushioning charm and I wasn't marked which broke my heart.

When I told him this his eyes went wide. I caught flashes of arousal and then the darker shade of disgust.

"Do not say things like that to me again…never Malfoy" he barked.

I dropped my head. "No Sir. I'm so sorry. I forgot myself"

He sighed and turned away. "This is so wrong. So sick."

My knees hit the floor in a panic. Trembling I shook my head and held out my hands pleadingly. My voice was a frantic whisper. "Please Harry Potter sir. I need this… this is the only thing that feels right. Please do not take this away from me."

His eyes narrowed. "You are crazy and I am crazy for indulging you. You say you need this. Well not with me. I am not vile like you. I don't get off on hurting people."

I had seen the prominent bulge in his pants many times but I did not challenge him. Let him put the blame on me. I would carry it willingly for both of us.

"Yes sir."

"And stop being so goddamned passive. You're fucking Draco Malfoy and this act is getting tired."

"I will try sir." I promised meekly.

In a flash he was in front of me and grasped my jaw painfully in his hands. With force he raised my face to meet his gaze. "This needs to stop. You are twisting me with your eyes and your lips and your body. Your voice makes me cruel. The smell of you makes me do things I never should have."

Tears flooded my eyes and I gasped at the threat in his words. He was going to push me away. I would be left to the elements without his guidance. I would be lost.

"Please no. Please don't" I cried in desperation.

He let me go and I slid to the ground boneless. I had no air and my lungs were crushing me.

I gasped helplessly as he turned away and left his office. I heard the door to the street swing open and then shut just as quickly. He'd left me.

It was another hour before I had the strength to rise. I was early evening and I found my cloak but I did not have the wherewithal to put in on. With only old and thinning robes I left the comforting heat of his office to the chilly draft of late autumn.

I could not stop the tears. How wretched I felt as I all but stumbled through the London streets.

God let him change his mind. Let him keep me. I prayed.

Misery was my only answer that night and she would make her home in my soul for a very long time to come.

Weeks passed and I was banished to my little office and ignored day after day by Harry. I continued to struggle with the scrolls but my efforts were neither praised nor condemned by him. I submitted my efforts with excited trepidation but he never said a word about them. A wave of his hand would signify my dismissal and I would scurry back into my hole like a frightened mouse.

My marks faded into nothingness.

All this affected me greatly. In my dejection I stopped feeling hunger and could go for days on a single cup of tea and some bread. I began to lose weight and the robes I wore grew more and heavier as I dragged my thinning body through wizarding London. I left them at home in favor of old jumpers and trousers from a secondhand shop I stumbled upon. It got colder but I never had the energy to look for a coat that fit.

But still I had hope that Harry would change his mind and talk to me. Or at least look at me as if I was an actual person deserving of his attention.

It was a little before Christmas when the guillotine finally fell on the tatters of a life I still had.

The announcement was front page in the Prophet and every other newspaper that served our kind. The groom-to-be was holding on to his pretty Weasley fiancée as if his hands had known no other. The smile on both their faces was brimming with joy.

I think that only I noticed that the smile did not reach his eyes.

On the morning of the announcement I made my way to my tiny office only to find my few belongings already packed into a wooden box and a letter praising my efforts on top.

I was dismissed and he had not even done it in person.

Like a blind man I stumbled across the empty corridors. The waiting room's only occupant was the floating teapot that had greeted me my first day here. I was back to being that pathetic man that had walked in here without a life beyond sleeping potions and thick curtains that filtered out any rays of sun.

I wish they'd let me sleep forever. Why did they awaken me only to sink me further into despair?

I crossed the threshold and the door banished behind me. He'd charmed it to no longer allow me entrance. Not even a chance at goodbye.

Was I that undeserving? Was my need for him such a disgusting thing that he no longer wished to look upon it not even one last time.

One last wound but this time I didn't think that I could be healed.

TBC.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we get a little into Harry's head and its not a good place to be.

(Harry P.O.V.)

Using the miniscule gold gardening shears I carefully clipped one of my Venomous Tentacula's smaller leaves and let it drop into my gloved hand. The tiny sprig quivered a bit in protest until it settled down resignedly. The Tentacula hissed in response to my impudence as I put the leaf into the tiny potion bottle that Neville had provided just for this reason. The renowned wizard botanist had promised to test it to find out just what was going on with my plant.

For the past few days the plants spiky tendrils had been dropping their leaves and lost their healthy green shine to a sickly white pallor. I had no idea why this was happening since I took excellent care of it and made an effort to give it an ideal environment. But it had become clear that I was dealing with a rapidly dying houseplant.

I set my shears inside their box and went for the bottle of firewhisky I kept in the bottom drawer of my desk. There was only a little bit left of the amber liquid and I could have sworn it had been a full bottle just yesterday not that it was helping. Nothing was helping anymore.

I couldn't sleep at night and I couldn't concentrate during the day. My skin felt too constraining and my hands longed for something that wasn't there. I was restless and not even my fiancée's presence could ease whatever was wrong with me.

Damn it.

I could tell that Ginny knew that she did not have my attention and of course being Ginny she wasn't about to ignore it.

Last night it had been Madame Cybelle's charmed garter belt that gave her the flair of a turn of the century whore for a couple of hours. I tried to fake interest but not even her borrowed talents could satisfy me.

The most wonderful, caring and vivacious woman I knew just wasn't cutting it. She left me cold.

With a wave of my hand I slammed by now empty bottle against a far wall. I was as sick as my plant. I had everything and all I wanted was some skinny, pathetic, mental patient who had been the biggest git in his prime but now needed a good spanking to get through the day.

My God I wanted to see him so badly. Every day I had to keep myself from apparating to the manor to seek him out and only thing that stopped me from that was the knowledge that there was nothing more toxic to Draco Malfoy than myself.

When Clementine Bode had approached me about placing him in my office I requested to have access to his file. Bode complied and I got a very thorough education on the man that Malfoy had become.

I'd read about what the aftermath of the war had done to him. He lost both of his parents and all the money in his accounts had been confiscated. His home had been razed and only the most basic of belongings have been left for his use. Instead of anger, Draco had grown passive and self-destructive. He'd tried to end his life with the use of strong sleeping potions and been placed in the closed ward for his own safety.

Then he'd been entrusted to me and I'd preyed on this vulnerable man. I mistreated him and waited for him to rise to be bait as the old Draco would have done but that Draco was gone. He'd taken my violence and my darkest urges and made a life out of them.

It was so sick.

I enjoyed finding whatever error I could and bringing him to task for it. He suffered so prettily and I grew more and more addicted to his pain. I yearned to guide him, to punish him and to carefully guard every single movement and thought that he might have.

He seemed to like it. I saw a light in his eyes and a new energy in his step. I even believed that I was helping him but then I realized that I had only trapped him in the web of my needs and wants. I enjoyed hurting him and I manipulated him into thinking that he enjoyed being hurt.

There was nothing good in our relationship so I made the decision to end it and remove him from my life.

It was very abrupt and simple. A few enchantments and he no longer had any access to this office. I was too cowardly to even tell him myself because I think I knew that his eyes could make me change my mind. His lips could get me to forget myself and his scent could drive me mad.

It was too dangerous for him. He was so fragile that I could finish him off.

How could I bet this person? Why did I crave his pain? I knew that the war had done some twisted things to my psyche but this was beyond insane. I was not better than Voldemort. People like me should be in Azkaban.

But I wanted to see him again. Just once and never again so that I could see that he was better off without me and that he was safe. I would say good bye like I should have before dismissing him so brusquely.

I would do that. Tonight I would go to him.

TBC.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The manor that had seen my first day was going to see my last. I was more than ready to let the pain come to an end.

What was there left for me? What hope for any sort of happiness in a world I no longer understood and where no one wanted me?

I was an useless relic of a dark, terrible history. A scion with nothing to pass on but for the mark of regret and desolation. My time in the closed ward at St. Mungo's had made me a realist. I saw the years ahead and they were empty and miserable. Why then would I cling to them?

Once I made my choice a great weight seemed to have lifted. A need for closure settled on me and I set about to destroy what little had been left in my nearly empty home. I build a large bonfire in what had been my mother’s garden quickly consumed the empty picture  
frames and hangings that were still in the manor. The old sofas and chairs went the same way until only my bed still stood.

A single elf remained at the manor. It looked on worriedly as I went through my ritual burning. I had a Slytherin scarf for him and the creature seemed relieved as he apparated away to his new life. He must have thought I would put him in the fire as well. Do not worry little creature. This is my pyre and not yours.

After the fire had burned out I turned my attention to myself. There were no mirrors left in the manor but I could guess that my appearance was lacking. I did not want the aurors who eventually would find my body to see me looking more like a charity case and less like the Malfoy I had once been. I looked through my meager wardrobe and found nothing that wasn’t old and faded. With such limited choices I settled on my Hogwarts robes that were only a little small but still in good condition. I put them on and smoothed the wrinkles with my hand. I was ready.

As the sun set I took to my bed and pulled the covers over me. The heavy green coverlet was well worn and well-loved and I buried myself in its familiar embrace. I had no lover to hold me; I had no family to miss me.

As night descended upon the manor I cried my final tears. I cried for everything that had been taken and the life I could have had. I cried because I didn’t have the strength to build a life for myself and because the man that I loved had chosen to turn his back on me in favor of a woman who could never be what he needed her to be.

Harry. My heart ached for him. I really didn’t care that I was poor and that I had no real chance at making anything of myself. I would live happily as his secretary or even as his servant if it meant that I could be in his presence – that I would merit his touch even when he only punishing me. But if I could have nothing of him then why would I stay here?

It wasn’t really a question. From underneath my bed I pulled out the single remaining bottle of sleeping draught had managed to escape the notice of the aurors that had taken me to St. Mungo’s so long ago. Years under Professor’s Snape’s tutelage told me that drinking the full bottle would be enough to shut down my heart and ease me into oblivion. Once upon a time I’d promised Harry that I would never take the potions again but … well I could not keep that promise and he wouldn’t care anyway if I did.

Only moments before I went to sleep and I was ready.

With one last breath I opened my mouth and drank deeply.

________________

 

Harry POV

 

My plant shed its last leaf late in the evening. The poisonous flower had lost her battle to the unknown sickness that had destroyed its roots. I sighed deeply. It had been so beautiful and I would miss its slow undulating fronds at the back of my head.  
It seemed strange that I would mourn a plant after all the loss that I had experienced but there was something endearing about it. The flower had evolved throughout centuries into a dangerous and predatory bloom but it was still so exquisite. It had been torn away from its intended home and placed in an unfamiliar environment completely dependent upon me to see to its survival. I had done my best for it but eventually it was not enough.

Such terrible fragility could not weather my mistakes and now it was too late.

I put on my cloak and the world suddenly became sharp and clear. I thought about the other being that had been entrusted to my care. I’ve failed him as well. He was vulnerable and as fragile as my plant and I’d cast him back to the unfriendly world that he’d tried to escape from in the first place.

I’d already decided to see him but maybe that wouldn’t be enough. I couldn’t just see him and leave. Someone as beautiful as him didn’t deserve a cowardly goodbye. I wouldn’t break his heart further just because I could not accept what I needed.

Oh God I how needed him. I’ve been a walking wreck ever since I pushed him out of my life.

I’d accused Draco of twisting me with his need but in reality I had already been twisted and he’d begun to heal me. He’d been candid in his acceptance that both of us craved something very different from the norm. That the man who’d been the boy who lived just needed to feel his lover writhing in pain/pleasure under him in order to be happy. I needed to control every single breath and every bit of his skin and he would let me gladly.

It was perfect. He was perfect as he was.

I laughed out loud. How simple it all really was when you finally took the blinders off.

I would find him and never leave him again. Ginny and everyone else be dammed. We would come together and finally be whole.

With resolution in my heart and something that felt a lot like the stirrings of love I rushed out to the night.

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not decided how this will end. I really see it both ways. Thank you to those that are reading and thank you for your patience. I will try to post the final chapter soon.


End file.
